


Carol of the Bells

by LibrarySocks



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate POV, Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas fic, Getting Together, M/M, No Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:55:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28244259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibrarySocks/pseuds/LibrarySocks
Summary: Stiles Stilinksi, brother in the Beta Theta Pi frat, is not about to secede his caroling territory to the douche bros in Alpha Delta Phi, thank you very much.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this fic for a month and I'm not making any progress, so I'm posting it bit by bit to give myself a kick in the ass to finish it. Hope you like it!
> 
> (I have no idea if these are real frats, they're not meant to be tho!)

Stiles groans as the morning sun hits him in the face. Someone must have pulled the sheet off his window last night when they were all too drunk to function. Fuckers. Sunday’s should be for sleeping in, but some asshole has made that an impossibility. 

He stumbles out of bed, the room tilting a bit as he stands, and makes his way to the shared bathroom on his floor. The house is silent, no doubt everyone else still blissfully asleep, as he warms up the shower. Being up early has some perks, he guesses. 

Stiles lets the hot water cascade down his body, leaving red trails in its wake. He’s always believed the only good shower is a shower that can boil you alive. After a few minutes he starts humming the first few bars of Jingle Bells before breaking out in full song on “a day or two ago,” and Scott thumps the wall between the bathroom and his room. 

Stiles smirks. Hale and his stupid fucking fraternity aren’t going to know what hit them.

* * * 

Scott glares at him blurily, feeling around half sleep blind for his toothbrush.

“Really dude. It’s like 11. On a Sunday. Why are you even awake.” 

“Because one of you heathens knocked my curtains down,” Stiles says accusingly, grabbing Scott’s toothbrush for him and handing it over.

Scott snorts. 

“Curtains. Right. You mean that sheet you tacked up?”

“The one and the same, Scotty boy. But since you’re up anyway, wanna get in a quick practice before we swing by to see the girls?” 

“I’m not waking up Danny.” 

“Please, Danny was probably up at some ungodly hour, like 8.” 

“Mmmph,” Scott says around his toothbrush. 

“Cool, meet me in the basement?” 

Scott rolls his eyes which Stiles takes as agreement.

* * * 

“I don’t get why this is such a big deal,” Scott whines after Stiles runs him through the choreography of “I shoulda been a North Pole Elf” for the third time.

Scott is hopeless at dancing of all kinds. 

“We’ve been over this Scott.”

“It’s a matter of principle,” Danny says at the same time as him, no doubt enjoying mocking him. 

“Well it is,” Stiles says defensively, “caroling for cash was _our_ thing, it kept us flush with booze money for the entirety of January, and then fucking Hale and his fucking Alpha Delta Phi bros decided to encrouch on our territority, and last year we barely made enough to get us through the first weekend!” 

“But isn’t this a lot of work for some beer money?” Scott asks, pulling his tank top off and putting on a t-shirt. 

“The principle, Scott!! The principle!” 

“Alright, alright, fine. Allison says they’re up if you want to head over there to do one more run through.”

* * * 

Allison, Erica and Lydia have already put on their costumes, new this year at Stiles’ insistence, when the boys arrive. 

Allison has on an elf dress that has Scott’s jaw hanging on the floor, promising more on and off drama from the two. Stiles tables this crisis for later. 

Erica has on a reindeer outfit compete with antlers and ample cleavage. Stiles isn’t sure how that will play to the over 50 crowd, but he personally appreciates it. What? He’s a growing boy!

Lydia, light of his life, social director of all things worth doing, has on a Mrs. Claus dress and a holly wreath nestled in her perfect red hair. It appears to be perched there precariously by willpower alone, but Stiles knows from experience that there is no doubt a can of hairspray and an army of bobby-pins keeping it in place. 

They do a quick run through of the songs they’ve rehearsed, Lydia taking over in directing the choreography now that they’re all together, before it’s time to doll up the boys. 

Stiles is secure enough in his masculinity to let Lydia smear eyeliner and bronzer and who knows what else on his face, and Danny is capable of doing his own thanks, so that just leaves Scott whining again as Allison tries to get him to sit still. 

Lydia finally snaps at him, and no one stands up to a pissed off Lydia, so Allison is able to make short work of his makeup. They slip into their own costumes to mirror the girls, Danny as Santa, Scott an Elf, and Stiles a reindeer, and get ready for battle.

* * * 

“I heard they’re staring on State Street so we’ll start there, too,” Stiles says.

“Couldn’t we just start on the other side of town? Split it down the middle?” Scott asks, ever the peace keeper. 

“So they can steal half our beer money? I don’t think so. We’ll start on the same street, may the best carolers win!” Stiles pumps his fist in the air, and ignores Lydia rolling her eyes at him. 

His intel proves accurate, Alpha Delta Phi are already in full swing, and Stiles smugly notices that they’re caroling in university sweatshirts and jeans. Well, except for Kira who’s got on a plaid skirt and doc martens. He knocks Scott on the back of the head to keep him from drooling. 

He steers his team of carolers across the street from Douchebag Frat Incorporated and knocks on a door that has decked the halls. He admires the giant snow globe in the yard appreciatively while they wait for the owner to answer the door. He’s not proud of what happens next.


	2. Chapter 2

Static comes from the radio before dispatch tells him to head to State Street for a 314 happening involving several college carolers. Jordan sighs, pulling a u-turn and turning on his lights. Idiot college kids, always causing trouble right at the end of his shift. Not that he can afford to turn down overtime pay, but just a few shifts every once in a while where he doesn’t have to deal with frat boys would be nice. 

When he arrives everything is in chaos. A tall man in a leather jacket with killer side burns is trying to pry a smaller, brown haired boy in a green hat and elf ears, off his legs. Every time he tries to shake him off the boy adjusts, wrapping himself around his legs like a python. 

Next to them a bored looking redhead is shouting insults as a petite asian girl, who responds in kind. Twin, bulking boys are shoving a scrawny boy wearing antlers between them. A, and Jordan cannot believe he is seeing this, _sexy reindeer_ is mooning the whole crowd while flipping the bird. She smiles wolfishly as she flips her blonde hair down to the side and wiggles her ass, cackling. 

As he watches a Disney Princess dressed like an elf launches herself at sideburns and hangs off his back like a monkey, causing him to stumble and fall, landing in a elf heap. A large black boy rolls his eyes and comes to pick the boy elf up by the back of his shirt, tossing him aside carelessly. This seems to upset Santa, who swoops in to help his elf up before screaming a battle cry only to be held at bay with an outstretched arm from the black boy. 

Basically, it’s Christmas themed chaos. Jordan wonders if he can pretend he didn’t get the call and let someone else deal with it. A cherub looking boy in a bright red scarf is standing on the sidelines, making aborted little movements as though he wants to join the fray but doesn’t know how. Jordan zeroes in on him and heads over. 

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asks, trying to put authority behind his voice. 

The cherub blinks up at him, chewing on his lip. 

“Um. Well. We, I mean, my frat, I mean, Alpha Delta Phi, we were caroling there,” he points at a small house with Christmas lights blinking from the eaves, an older couple standing on the porch shamelessly staring at the brawl, “and uh, they, I mean, Beta Theta Pi.”

“Are they the ones dressed in costume?” Jordan interrupts. 

“Ya, they showed up and they were caroling there,” he points across the street to a house with several inflatables in the yard, it’s occupants also on the lawn rubbernecking, “and um, they started but they had a bluetooth speaker?” 

Jordan nods, watching as Mrs. Claus launches herself at the cute girl she was screaming at moments ago, and waits for cherub to continue. 

“And so, um Derek,” cherub points at sideburns, “he said we should move down the block more, so like, we weren’t singing over each other? But then Ethan and Aiden thought it would be funny to steal their speaker,” the boy gestures to the gigantic twins who are still shoving the reindeer, though they may regret it in a moment, he’s looking a little green around the gills. 

The boy stares at his feet, and Jordan clears his throat loudly, waiting for him to continue. Sideburns, aka Derek, is running from the girl elf now, and almost smashes into the swinging Santa. 

“Well, they got the speaker, but then Stiles,” cherub points at the boy, who, yep, is now throwing up on the shoes of one of the twins, Ethan or Aiden, he doesn’t know, “called them some names and then when Ethan tried to hit him, Allison”, he blushes now, and indicates the Disney Princess dressed as an elf, “kicked him in the stomach and he fell down the porch stairs, and then they took off running except, well, we were here?”

“And so you all decided to have a fist fight in the middle of the street,” Jordan finishes for him. 

Cherub shrugs, his shoulders coming up around his ears. 

Things are calming down now as the costumed carolers all gather around Stiles and the twins shout at him for throwing up on their shoes. Jordan sighs and walks over to interrupt their bickering. 

“You’re paying for these, dumbass,” one of the twins is saying as he approaches. 

“Then you’re buying me lunch, fuckface.” 

“What?!” 

“Because I just threw mine up all over your shoes!” 

“Alright boys, let's break it up,” Jordan says in his best cop voice, “you’re disturbing all these nice people,” he adds, gesturing at the half of the neighborhood who have come out to watch the spectacle. 

“Sorry sir,” the elf says, flashing some serious dimples, “we’ll leave.”

“What?” Stiles sputters, “they started it!” 

Jordan rubs his forehead as they all start shouting again. He definitely doesn’t get paid enough for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the most fun chapter I wrote all year, idk.


	3. Chapter 3

His frat brothers bicker about what off campus bar they’ll head to as they walk ahead of him, the twins shoving at each other until Boyd trips Aiden. He just smiles, breathing in the early evening air, content and happy. They’re a bunch of idiot goofballs but they’re _his_ idiot goofballs, his family away from home, and he wouldn’t change them for the world. 

Kira slows down to walk side by side with him, and he wraps an arm around her petite shoulders. She nuzzles her face into his shoulder for a moment, and he smirks. Kira had petitioned to join the frat this year after Erica had been allowed to pledge Beta Theta Pi last year. Erica had ended up in a the small sister sorority but the damage was done, there was precedent, and Kira had ended up being a great addition to the frat. 

They follow the crowd into a darkly lit bar, decked out for the holidays. A christmas tree sits in a back corner next to a jukebox, flashing random patterns in multicolored lights. Jingle bells ring over the door every time someone walks in and warm happy chatter fills the room. Derek can just make out the sounds of “Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree” playing over the speakers. 

Ethan and Aiden make a beeline for the bar, laughing and shoving each other again until Boyd steps between them, and Derek gives a bark of a laugh at their antics before heading towards one of the few empty booths in the back.

He slides off his coat and throws it into the corner of the booth and takes Kira’s and folds it on top of his. She sets off, to needle Isaac into buying her a drink no doubt, and Derek is left guarding their seats.

He lets the music, lights, and chatter wash over him, closing his eyes and sighing. He can’t believe they’d gotten into an actual street fight with Beta Theta Pi. Stiles and his mouth, he thinks to himself, always looking for trouble. He smiles and opens his eyes as the door jingles again, admitting a crowd of laughing people. 

And there, like he summoned him with his thoughts, is Stiles. Derek quickly scans the room but none of his brothers seem to have noticed yet. Ethan has cornered a boy in a corner, flexing his arm, trying to make the other boy feel it. Aiden and Boyd are huddled together at the end of the bar chatting up a group of overdressed women who look a bit old to be lurking in a college bar. It takes him a minute to find Isaac and Kira, but they too seem oblivious to the entrance of the rival frat, Kira placing a piece of holly decoration into Isaac’s mop of hair, who smiles down at her shyly. 

The opposite, unfortunately, isn’t true. While the rest of his group heads to the bar, Stiles veers off towards Derek. He wishes he’d had a beer already, something to take the edge off the irritating mix of gorgeous and infuriating that is Stiles Stilinski. 

“Hey douchebag,” Stiles opens with, flinging himself into the seat across from him, his long legs getting tangled with Derek’s for a moment. “What are you and the brute squad doing here?” 

Derek rolls his eyes, and deadpans, “I am the brute squad.” 

“He speaks! He gets pop culture references! Maybe he’s not beyond hope after all, folks,” Stiles declares loudly, as if he’s in front of a studio audience. 

Derek would not be surprised if Stiles really thought the world was his audience, his large gestures and loud voice constantly throwing him in the center of attention. 

He’s lost the reindeer antlers and makeup and switched it for a snug Christmas sweater with a string of lights across it over a pair of fitted jeans. It’s a nice change from his normal flannel he typically wears on campus. Not that Derek noticed, or anything. 

“Look, can you ask the wonder twins to leave us alone tonight? I know they live for the screams of the less fortunate but we’d really just like to chill.”

“Are you the less fortunate in this scenario?” Derek asks. 

Stiles rolls his eyes, grabbing a napkin and beginning to shred it into tiny pieces. 

“The less physically fortunate,” he says, gesturing vaguely between them. “The less gym ratty? I don’t know man, they like bullying people who can’t fight back and I just can’t tonight.” 

Stiles makes a move as if to leave the booth and for some reason Derek doesn’t want him to. 

“Sorry. About them. I uh, I’ll try to keep an eye on them.” 

Stiles flashes him a crooked smile, standing and drumming his knuckles against the tabletop. 

“I could get you a drink? They take our fake ID’s here,” he looks uncertain when he says it, and Derek finds himself nodding. 

“Sure. Wait, how old are you?”

Stiles pulls his wallet and peers at his ID. 

“Looks like I’m 22,” he flashes the ID at him and without thinking Derek grabs it out of his hand. 

“Gemini?” He snorts, before handing it back. 

“Hey! Don’t make fun of my fake name,” he says with fake affront, “besides, it’s better than my real one.” 

“Better than Stiles? I don’t know…” 

“No dumbass, my actual… nevermind. Beer?” 

“Sure. Whatever.” 

Stiles rolls his eyes at him and heads to the bar. 

Derek takes the opportunity to look around while Stiles fights through the crowd to the bar. Isaac and Kira have now been joined by Scott and Allison, and Isaac is doing that shuffly thing with his feet that he does when he’s trying to flirt. He’s not exactly sure _who_ he’s flirting with, though, because all three of them seem to be gazing at him like he’s the most adorable thing ever. He snorts to himself, that’s because they’ve never had to clean up after him after one of his baking binges in the shared kitchen. He’d love to see Allison’s face after she witnesses that carnage. 

Boyd has been cornered by Erica and Derek isn’t sure if he looks scared or… something else. Boyd has very few facial expressions, and he’s very careful with his body language. He doesn't seem to be looking for help, though, so Derek just nods at him before looking for, as Stiles had called them, the wonder twins. 

Ethan is doing his “gun show” routine at the bar with Danny, who seems amused and not at all like he’s falling for it. Derek smirks as Danny rolls his eyes and turns around and Ethan scurries around to keep talking to him. Might do him some good, he muses, to be turned down. 

His brother is a few feet away and he’s staring down uncertainly at Lydia who’s wearing an astonishingly low cut Christmas sweater and tossing her hair. He doesn’t stand a chance. Derek considers going over to save him but then remembers him shoving Stiles earlier and decides he’ll let the terrifying Lydia Martin corner him a bit longer. 

Stiles comes back as the music changes to “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” carrying a couple of bottles of beer. 

“Come here often?” He quips, sliding a bottle across to him and settling back into the booth.


	4. Chapter 4

Hale is more than just a hot piece of ass, Stiles is finding. He’s also funny and… kind of sweet? Which is weird. He’s not sure he hasn’t stepped into the Twilight Zone, because he’s sitting there looking all scruffy and cute in his soft blue sweater laughing at something Stiles said and he doesn’t want to punch him in the face. 

Like he said, weird. 

Stiles fiddles with his beer bottle, slowly pulling the label off, legs sprawled open beneath the table. Every once in a while Derek will knock his knee against him, but they pretend it’s not happening so Stiles doesn’t have to sit up like a grown up. Or atleast, that’s why Stiles isn’t mentioning it. 

“So,” Stiles starts, taking a deep breath, “I wanted to apologize for earlier. It was my idea to carol in the same place,” he rubs the back of his neck nervously, realizing just how petty he’s been, “and that was a dick move. There are plenty of houses to hit, and I didn’t have to do that. So uh. Sorry.” 

Derek stares at him for a moment in disbelief which, hey, he can be adult about things! No reason to look so surprised. 

“Actually I was uh, maybe wondering,” Stiles forges ahead, unable to let the silence stand, “if maybe you guys wouldn’t want to maybe team up for some houses, ya know, be the Robin to our Batman.” 

“You mean you’d be the Spiderman to our Iron Man? How would that work? Would we split the money between the charities, or alternate year to year, or?”

Stiles is staring at Derek like he has two heads, he sits up and leans forwards, “A, Spiderman is totally not the sidekick to Iron Man, and B, Marvel can suck it, I’m Batman.”

Derek cocks an eyebrow at him and he’s wearing that smirk Stiles knows so well as Stiles’ brain catches up with him.

“Wait, you guys donate your money to charity?”

“Yeah? Why, what do you do with it? I mean, we have to do 3 charitable acts a year to keep the frat open and this seemed simple… I thought that was why you were so pissed.”

“Dude, no!” Stiles buries his face in his hands, feeling like a jackass, “our president, Jackson, is _loaded_ , like, he could be Batman if he wasn’t such a colossal dickweed, loaded, he just donates money to charity a few times a year in the frats name. We have beer pong tournaments to see who gets to pick where the money is going.” 

Derek is staring again, but before Stiles can start rambling again he says, “so… who would you donate to if you won?” 

“The Beacon Hills Widowed Sheriff's Foundation,” he reels off instantly. 

He’s not great at beer pong, but he’s getting better. It could happen. 

“That’s… specific?” 

Stiles snorts, knees bouncing under the table, “yeah, it’s just basically my dad. I actually got some donations to it last year and he just used the money to buy new chairs for the desk staff. It was ridiculous. It’s probably a lost cause.” 

“Your dad’s a sheriff?” 

Derek looks meaningfully at Stiles’ beer and Stiles rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, but he’s not here, is he?”

“Does he get you out of trouble then?”

Derek crinkles his forehead like the idea of Stiles abusing the system bothers him, and Stiles sputters with laughter. 

“Noooo, I’m pretty good with getting away with things, but if I get caught he throws the book at me,” Stiles laughs, “once I got caught trying to climb the tree outside of Scott’s window when I was supposed to be home and my dad threatened to charge me as a peeping tom.” 

This earns a smile from Derek, who relaxes a bit against the booth, seemingly happy with this answer. 

“So… if you don’t use the money for charity what do you use it for?”

Stiles has the grace to look sheepish now, stalling by taking another pull of his beer. 

“Promise not to get mad?” 

“What? Why would I get mad?”

“Because you’re all altruistic and hot donating the money to charity and we just use it for… beermoney.” Stiles finishes in a rush. 

“You think I’m hot?” 

“What? That’s what you got out of that? You totally are Tony Stark.”

“Better than man pain Bruce Wayne.”

“Hey! I resent that! All the money in the world and a robot suit is all Stark can come up with? Have you _seen_ Batman’s car?”


	5. Chapter 5

Lydia tosses her hair over her shoulder as she watches the bartender pour her another shot. She smiles prettily at him then looks pointedly at Aiden who sighs and pays for the drink. Aiden stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks around, clearly looking for an escape, and Lydia smirks behind her glass before tipping it back. 

There aren’t very many unattached people in the bar, though, and it seems like Aiden is coming to the same realization. Erica catches her eye from across the room and jerks her head to the side. 

Lydia follows the motion to see Stiles and Derek looking _cozy_ in a booth, arguing about something. 

She looks back at Erica and raises her eyebrows before slowly inching in that direction, and Erica follows suit. They end up in a corner behind the booth, whispering to each other, when Allison joins them, trailing Scott, Isaac, and Kira. Aiden is checking his phone and pretending not to listen, so Lydia sends him back to the bar for another drink. 

She stares at Kira for a moment, deciding if it’s worth fighting over her presence before deciding she can have some Christmas leniency at Allison’s choice of friends. 

“Allison, go see what they’re talking about,” she says, “Erica, go get that,” she gestures across the room and Erica giggles and rushes to comply, “and you three, go keep tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber busy.” 

Isaac snorts and Kira rolls her eyes, but follows behind Isaac to distract Ethan and Aiden, Scott following behind them looking confused. 

Erica comes back, practically hopping in glee, and hands Lydia her treasure. 

“They’re talking about comic books,” Allison says, looking confused. 

“Derek’s a closet nerd,” a voice booms from behind them, and Lydia gives little start but tries to play it off. 

“Really?” Erica asks, sidling closer to Boyd, “who’d have thunk.” 

Lydia rolls her eyes, Erica’s IQ always drops ten points when a cute boy is in her vicinity. Kira seems to have taken Boyd’s presence as an invitation to come back over, and Lydia glares at her.

“What are you even doing?” She asks, glaring right back. 

“Working some Christmas magic.”

“Whatever. Derek is way too good for Stilinski.” 

“Hey!” Scott protests, “Stiles is awesome!”

“He can’t really afford to be choosy with that mouth, though, can he?” Kira counters, turning on him. 

“I mean, he turned me down,” Isaac says quietly, face going a bright red.

“ _Really_ ,” Lydia says, looking at Isaac interestedly. 

“Why bro? You’re awesome!” 

Lydia rolls her eyes, Scott thinks everyone is awesome, apparently. 

“Are we even sure this is what they want?” Erica asks, doubtfully. 

“Look at them, they’re adorable! Do you want Stiles to hatch another harebrained plan in the spring as to why we have to be at war with them? You know it’s just to get Derek’s attention.”

“Is it?” 

“Yes, Erica, clearly.” She turns to Allison, “can you go ask them to put on our song?” 

“Why me?”

“Because you’re adorable and non threatening and boys want to do what you say.” 

Allison thinks about this before a moment before nodding and smiling, heading towards the bar to ask. 

“Hey, I’m cute!” Erica protests. 

“You’re hot,” Lydia corrects, “and nothing about you is non threatening.” 

Boyd snickers and then pretends like he didn’t. 

Lydia looks at him appraisingly. 

“You look strong. And tall. Think you could give me a boost?”


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles is sarcastic and witty and god can he argue. No one ever really argues with Derek, sometimes there are small spats in the house, but everyone always gives in eventually. Not like this, not counterarguments and monologues and dragging of heels. And never about something as stupid and nonconsequential as comic books! 

He once tried to drag Boyd into a discussion about two different architects they’d been learning about in class and he’d just shrugged or nodded. It was exhausting. Aiden sometimes engaged in little spats with him, but he always got bored quickly and he never had any _real_ talking points, not like this. 

Stiles is now comparing two different DC arcs, his arms flailing wildly, eyes flashing, and Derek can’t take his eyes off of him. He’s about to eviscerate his argument when Stiles suddenly sits up, looking surprised, before a gigantic smile crosses his face.

Derek looks at him confused but he doesn’t say anything, just starts sliding out of the booth, and jumping up to stand. He looks down at Derek and rolls his eyes before pulling him out, too. 

“What?” 

“LIKE A LIGHTBULB!” He shouts at the top of his lungs, holding his hands over his head to make a lightbulb shape, and Derek flinches and jumps as the words echo across the bar. 

A moment later it’s followed by, “Like Pinocchio!”, and this time he holds a hand out in front of his face, again in tandem with his friends… and Derek is surprised to see, a few others. 

Stiles seems to have caught up, because now he’s singing all of the lyrics to the song and Derek realizes they’re all singing along to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer with the added lyrics… and hand motions. 

He knows some of them, so he joins in with “Like Monoploy!”, and “Ho Ho Ho”, though he doesn’t make the round belly motion with Stiles, and tries to keep from laughing at him. 

Honestly, it’s adorable, Stiles is clearly having a blast and the feeling of fun is contagious, like everyone in the room is one big group. It’s nice. 

Stiles surprises him by turning towards him, links his right arm into his, and starts to skip in a circle. Derek does not skip. He stumbles a bit before he realizes what’s happening, and then walks, and does the same when Stiles stops, links their left arms instead, and now skips in the opposite direction.

He collapses against Derek’s chest for a moment at the end of the song, gasping with laughter, before standing up and looking around for his friends. Derek definitely doesn’t stand frozen in place, gripping the edge of the booth to keep from pulling him back.

* * * * * * * * * * 

Lydia, that beautiful mastermind, has to be behind this, he decides. She sends a finger wave his way when he finally spots her and he grins back at her. He turns and grabs Derek’s hand without thinking, and tugs him over to where… where their friends are standing together?

When did that happen? He turns to quirk an eyebrow at Derek and ask if he knows whats up, but Derek is staring at where their hands are linked, his brow furrowed. Oh. Oh crap. He has got to stop manhandling people without their permission, he goes to tug his hand back but Derek tightens his grip reflexively and Stiles snorts, pulling him closer so they’re almost side to side, but not quite. 

“Sorry about that,” he says over the rising din of conversation. 

People seem more cheerful now, he thinks, nothing like a sing along to introduce you to a stranger. 

“Stop!” Erica, Allison, and Lydia shout in tandem. 

Stiles stops abruptly, and Derek stumbles into his back, before grabbing his shoulders to steady him. 

“What?”

The three girls all smile at him like the cat that got the cream before pointing at the ceiling. Stiles follows their fingers up and… mistletoe. The little monsters have stranded him under mistletoe. 

Derek clears his throat behind him and Stiles feels his cheeks start to flame. He’s going to kill them. Scott is standing to side looking apologetic and Kira is avoiding eye contact with Derek. Ah. So they were all in on this together. 

“Look,” Stiles says, spinning to face Derek, “you can ignore them, no one is going to force… you… to kiss me.”

Stiles stutters into silence because Derek is looking down at him, looking between his mouth and his eyes. 

“Don’t be a chicken!” One of the twins shouts and then he hears an “oof” that probably means Lydia elbowed him. 

“Or. I mean,” Stiles amends, “it is Christmas, it would be a shame to let everyone down.” 

“Mmm,” Derek says, and he’s not sure if he’s agreeing with him or letting him know he’s onto Stiles’ bullshit. 

It doesn’t really matter either way, though, because a moment later he’s leaning into Stiles and giving him a soft peck on the mouth before backing up slightly, looking him in the eye, questioningly. 

Stiles gapes at him for a moment before threading his arms around his neck and pulling him in for a _real_ kiss. 

Behind him the crowd breaks into cheers, and he hears clapping and hooting and laughter and feels Derek smile into his mouth. 

Maybe all the Alpha Delta Phi’s aren’t douchebags afterall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! :) Thank you for reading!


End file.
